the PLAGUEA Poem by Terry O'Learyas the PROPHETS of profits, WE lead and WE’re fair
while WE’re living the life of the poor BILLIONAIRE - silver yachts, pearly castles, cash (plenty to spare) - with the world on OUR backs... ah! the burdens WE bear! being HAVES (not the have-nots) as nature decrees means WE’re certainly the better (they’re vermin on sleaze). if they pray for a lift in their dark fantasies, WE just kick ’em downstairs, get ’em off of their knees. yes, WE offer great jobs (much too busy OURSELVES!) for maintaining the toilets, restacking the shelves, and WE teach ’em to fear god and play with the elves, thus dispelling ideas where the dark demon delves. though they build mighty bridges, twin towers and more, peddle pizzas and popcorn, sell guns door-to-door, still they gotta have BOSSES to tell ’em the score else WE’d never be needed, WE’d thrive nevermore. when OUR profits are plunging, they do their part too for they dine on the dole! yes, no hullabaloo! soon OUR fortunes redouble, rebound and accrue - since WE fare well without ’em, WE bid ’em adieu. ’stead of wishing for welfare and standing in queues or parading with pickets (look! holes in their shoes!), they’d be better off scabbing to save union dues. while WE whistle and warble, they’re singing the blues. whether heroes or hoboes, like spiders and lice they just crawl all around us in life’s paradise, but WE’re patient, big hearted and oft sacrifice, spewing charity, kindness (though each has its price). if they’re beaten or punctured or suffer assault, are unhealthy or crippled or walk with a halt, or retarded or helpless, it’s all their own fault - just like US they should worship the DOLLAR exalt’! protesters and loud mouths, you’ll find ’em aplenty some older, some younger, the worst not yet twenty. they’re shameless and brazen (unwashed, soiled and scenty) impugning the prestige of brave COGNOSCENTI. if they’ve got clashing colors (or shades in between) or opposing beliefs in the hidden unseen, well, WE’ll always exploit it, deflecting their spleen, for with god on each side, would WE dare intervene? WE maintain many methods to keep ’em in chains - daily rags and the tube spin OUR circus campaigns: “to pretend you’ve a voice”, an announcement explains, “you can vote and decide on which ONE of US reigns”. OUR policemen protect US, they stay on the ball (they arrest ’em, no questions per law’s protocol, and then jam ’em in jail with their backs to the wall) - if you’ve lucre for lawyers there’s justice for all. down the ROYAL road of justice WE march all alone - WE condemn their defiance, set ways to atone - since WE’re sinless, unsullied, WE cast the first stone (while WE cloak REGAL fetor with eau de cologne). politicians, bald bankers, grand idols galore, attend meetings, fete banquets in which they explore how to rid US of rodents (the weak and the poor) - well, just round up the riff-raff, dispatch ’em to war! ah! OUR wars are, well, just...... just a thing of the past ........... and the present............... and future... WE sure make them last! if they frown as they gaze (Armageddon!) aghast, then WE smile back with pleasure, OUR treasures amassed. useless ranting and raving (in rags, when they’re clad), leads to losing their teeth (my! their gums are... egad!). WE’re unselfish, indulgent, WE’d never be mad if they drowned in the sounds of themselves feeling sad. as the paupers are princes in midnight’s domain, they have pipe dreams to lose, certainly nothing to gain if they’re hoping OUR fortunes will wither and wane - for “WE’re here by god’s will” as WE often explain. yes, they wish to be US, with OUR wisdom and grace, keeping up with ol’ CROESUS, maintaining the pace. but perverseness or rancor? they’ll see not a trace - for WE hold ’em at bay with a fist in the face. WE’re la CRÈME de la CRÈME, yes! the proud UPPER CRUST, and OUR clothes are the finest, OUR hair never mussed - WE imbue ’em with piety, duty and trust and they’re fed bread and water (if feed ’em WE must). but they’re thieving, aggrieved, want a piece of OUR PIE and request WE endure ’em, see EYE to black eye. since they live in OUR land where OUR strict rules apply, they must feast on the crumbs that We cast to the sty. though OUR largesse and bounty WE don’t mean to flaunt, yet the pittance WE pay ’em they surely can vaunt - salty peanuts and pretzels (what more could they want?) thereby keeping their kiddies so healthily gaunt. yes, there’s room for the rabble (the back of the bus) ’cause WE treat ’em like equals, so what’s all the fuss? all can rise to the top (yes! it’s always been thus), to the suites in OUR penthouse (to sweep up and dust). while OUR CHILDREN have tutors, the finest of schools (being bred for the forefront, THEY’re nobody’s fools), their own school of hard knocks teaches: “follow the rules”, building brawn ’stead of brains and broad backs strong as mules’. and to keep ’em in line (to ensure WE prevail) WE now monitor phone calls and read all their mail (civil rights? what a notion! at best a detail!) and if worse comes to worst...... well...... guantanamo jail! WE’ve OUR quandaries and questions and headaches full blown (like deciding design and decor of OUR throne... whether diamonds or rubies... to gemstones WE’re prone) . when WE deign to appease ’em, WE chuck ’em a bone. now you know all OUR problems, OUR pains and travails - like preparing foreclosures, evictions and sales - but WE’ve no need for worries or gnawed fingernails, ’cause WE’re sailing OUR yachts through tempestuous gales (with them bailing OUR banks when OUR stock market fails) sipping daiquiri sours, champagnes, ginger ales. © 2018 Terry O'LearyFeatured Review
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4 Reviews Added on April 13, 2016 Last Updated on August 25, 2018 AuthorTerry O'LearyFranceAbouta physicist lacking gravity... learning more and more... about less and less... until we finally know... everything about nothing... more..Writing
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